


Goodwood Getaway

by popfly



Category: Schitt's Creek (TV) RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: Annie and Sarah book a "therapeutic getaway."
Relationships: Sarah Levy/Annie Murphy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4
Collections: RPFebruary Prompt Fest





	Goodwood Getaway

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [rpfebpromptfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/rpfebpromptfest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> _Annie and Sarah do a Staycation weekend in the environs of Goodwood one summer during location shooting. Maybe glamping in a retro trailer? Or a luxury yurt? The next week they have to put up with teasing from Ana and Lucky. Any rating but these girls are so hotttttttt._
> 
> My first mature-rated f/f! Thanks for the awesome prompt. [The Airbnb I picked for them is real.](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/33138471?check_in=2021-06-18&check_out=2021-06-20&s=67&unique_share_id=3d107ba3-fe7a-4fa5-bf5e-3ae6a53ef352) Thanks as always to Gray and TINN for the encouragement and the speedy beta.

There are butterflies in Sarah’s stomach, and they’re not from filming nerves. She still gets those, of course, she’s not seasoned enough to be blase about being on camera. And there’s something about this project in particular that gets her anxious. Maybe it’s working for and with her dad and brother, or maybe it’s other people on the cast.

It’s definitely other people on the cast causing today’s butterflies. One person in particular. One person who is currently sitting in the chair next to Sarah’s in the hair and makeup trailer, attempting to drink an iced coffee while Lucky paints her face.

“Move the straw, woman,” Lucky says, laughing, and Annie shifts the straw from side to side in her mouth while Lucky pretends to attack her lips with a brush. “You’re the worst.”

Sarah’s eyes flick up to Ana’s in the mirror, as Ana lifts one of her perfectly arched eyebrows. She’s caught Sarah staring then. Sarah lowers her eyes to her lap, careful not to move her head too much so Ana can keep working.

“Any plans for the weekend?” Ana asks, and Sarah’s eyes jump right back up to Annie’s reflection. Annie is grinning around her straw now, one half of her mouth painted petal pink.

“We have excellent plans, don’t we Sare?” Lucky pokes Annie’s cheek with the pointy end of her brush and Annie laughs, then lowers her coffee and holds still so Lucky can finish her job. Ana’s eyebrow is still up, and Sarah feels her cheeks warming under the layers of powder.

“We do,” Sarah confirms. “We decided to stay here for the weekend.”

“Ee got da cutest Air-ee-an-ee,” Annie says, mouth still held perfectly still for Lucky’s brush.

“What?” Ana laughs.

“We got the cutest Airbnb,” Sarah interprets. “It’s a converted schoolhouse, and it has a sauna, and they have chickens!”

“That sounds amazing,” Lucky says. “Just for the two of you?”

Sarah avoids Ana’s eyes in the mirror as Annie confirms. She feels like Ana can see everything on Sarah’s face: the anticipation, the naive hope. It’s just a fun girls’ getaway, a chance for two friends to relax in the midst of filming. If Sarah wishes it was more, that’s her secret to keep.

🐑

They get to the Airbnb late; filming had gone right up to sunset, and then Annie had gotten caught up in Dan’s trailer going over scripts for Monday. Sarah drives the short distance to the property with her high beams on, Annie folded up in the passenger seat, stifling yawns with her fist.

“Foooood,” Annie moans, after they’ve checked in and made their way into the space. She flops onto the couch, limbs akimbo, while Sarah wanders around the room, taking everything in. 

“I thought we could grocery shop and cook, but that’s probably better for tomorrow. I wonder what we can get delivered here,” Sarah says, ignoring the easy sprawl of Annie’s body and the way her thin t-shirt has ridden up. 

“It probably says in the welcome packet,” Annie says, and then springs up to grab it off the counter and flip through it. “Aha. There’s a Pizza Pizza in town.”

“Oh god,” Sarah groans with a laugh. She passes by Annie on her way to inspect the kitchen and Annie reaches out to hook her arm around Sarah’s neck, drawing her in. 

“Here, look with me,” Annie says. Her voice is lower now, more intimate, or maybe it just sounds that way because Sarah is basically pressed to her throat. Annie smells like a combination of the makeup remover Lucky uses and sweat, because they’d been filming for 10 hours in the July heat. Sarah breathes it in, the butterflies in her stomach flapping like mad. 

“There’s a sushi place,” Sarah offers, and Annie’s low chuckle vibrates slowly up Sarah’s spine. 

“Sushi delivery in Uxbridge, I thought this was supposed to be a therapeutic, relaxing weekend.” Annie’s hand dangles over Sarah’s shoulder, her fingertips brushing Sarah’s blouse. When she shrugs they drag up onto bare skin, and Sarah fights a shiver. “Let’s do it.”

Therapeutic, Sarah’s ass. This weekend is going to be torture.

🐑

They eat outside at the little spool table, sharing a bottle of wine the owner had said they were free to enjoy, listening to the quiet sounds of nature. It is therapeutic, being somewhere so calm and still, even with the constant thrum under Sarah’s skin that comes from just being in Annie’s presence.

“This is nice,” Annie says, leaning back in her chair with a hand over her stomach, wineglass held gently in her other. She looks up at the sky, the sprinkling of stars that they wouldn’t be able to see if they were in the city. Sarah watches her for a second before tilting her own head back to do the same. 

“It is,” Sarah agrees. There’s a gentle, warm breeze, she’s full of surprisingly good sushi and unsurprisingly good wine, and she’s got a whole, unplanned weekend ahead of her with one of her favorite people in the world. “Do you ever—” she starts, and then cuts herself off. Wine always makes her maudlin, but she hadn’t meant to start letting any of it out. 

Annie’s head swivels slowly towards her. “Ever what?” She asks, her voice as gentle and warm as the breeze. 

She has to finish now, she won’t be able to leave Annie hanging. “Do you ever wonder if we would have met, if the show hadn’t happened? Or you hadn’t been cast?”

“Uh oh,” Annie says, reaching out to take Sarah’s hand and give it a little shake. “Wine drunk Sare-bear.” Her eyes are glinting in the moonlight and she squeezes Sarah’s fingers once before letting go. “I would like to believe we would.”

Sarah blows out a breath and nods. “Me too.”

“It doesn’t matter though, because the show _did_ happen, and I _did_ get cast, and now you’ll never be rid of me.”

The laughter bubbles up from Sarah’s chest and pushes all the maudlin out with it. “Good,” she says, firm so Annie knows she means it.

🐑

The bed is so big there’s no question about sharing it, even though there’s a pullout couch and an air mattress that could be blown up. Sarah tries to think of it as a slumber party, but those were fraught with similar tension even in her adolescence, so it doesn’t quite work.

Clearly Annie feels none of that tension, crawling under the covers and taking up space in her easy, Annie way. Her forearm brushes Sarah’s as she flips over and wiggles to find a comfortable spot. Her head is almost in the middle of the bed, cheek barely occupying a corner of her pillow, and her smile is bright in the light streaming in the big windows. 

“Night, Sarah,” she says, and then reaches out for an Alexis-style boop to Sarah’s nose. Sarah laughs quietly, all the tension flowing out of her at that small touch. 

“Night, Annie,” she says.

🐑

The bed is suspended from the ceiling but barely moves when Sarah swings her legs out of it the next morning. She’s glad, because she’s trying not to wake Annie, who is snoring softly somewhere under the blanket.

After a quick bathroom stop Sarah goes out to retrieve their breakfast basket. It’s so sweet and homey, with its gingham covered jar of honey and the wax paper wrapped pastries. She thinks about showering and changing before Annie gets up, but instead she pulls her hair up in a messy bun and makes coffee, then takes it out to the table to see what the property is like in the already bright morning sunlight. 

It’s a perfect day, sky clear and sharp blue, humidity barely noticeable. The air smells fresh and clean, and somewhere there are chickens clucking. Sarah wants to walk around and meet all the animals, but she’s barefoot and too comfy in her spot. Hopefully later she and Annie can do the tour together. 

Sarah’s almost done with her coffee by the time Annie makes her way out, picking her way across the gravel gingerly and dropping into the second chair with a sigh. Her hair is pulled up to match Sarah’s, and she has a pillow crease in her cheek. It’s overwhelmingly cute.

“Morning,” Annie grits out, then takes a long gulp of coffee. Sarah’s smile is so big it hurts her face. 

“Morning,” Sarah replies, and Annie must hear the delight in Sarah’s voice because she rolls her eyes. Annie’s distinct non-morning-person-ness is a running gag on set, and Sarah is ridiculously pleased to see it extend into real life. “I want to visit the animals today.”

“After coffee, right?”

“Yes, Annie. After coffee, and a shower.”

Annie nods, already looking more alive after she’s drained almost half her coffee. “Sounds good.”

🐑

It’s so nice to not be in a rush, but it means it’s nearly lunchtime by the time they’ve finished coffee and all the food in the breakfast basket, showered and changed and managed to motivate themselves enough to get shoes on and go for a walk.

The property the old schoolhouse sits on is gently rolling and sparsely wooded, dotted with amenities for guests like a fire pit and hammocks. The private residence is off limits, of course, but their many animal pens are available for visits, and laid out in a nicely drawn map in the welcome booklet. There are pigs, which Annie spends several minutes cooing at like they’re puppies, chickens and ducks that roam free and peck at their shoes as they walk, and sweet little sheep that let them pet their wool. 

They avoid the bees, because while Sarah can appreciate them for what they do she doesn’t want to make their close acquaintance, and they circle back towards the schoolhouse. Before they reach the door, Annie’s stomach rumbles loudly.

“Whoa,” Sarah says, laughing. Annie presses both hands to her stomach, trying to scowl around a grin. 

“It’s past lunchtime!” She says, as if they hadn’t eaten a large, late breakfast. 

“I’ll get the keys, let’s go get food,” Sarah says, because a hungry Annie is a grumpy Annie, and they need groceries for dinner anyway.

🐑

Lunch is wraps they grab from the market, and after they put their groceries away and eat Annie wants to go back to the hammocks. They each bring a book, but Sarah dozes off after a few pages, face tipped up to the dapple of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees. She’s woken by Annie, peering down at her with a small smile.

“Come on Freckles,” she says, nudging Sarah’s arm to make the hammock swing. “Don’t want you to burn.”

When they get back Annie suggests they try out the sauna. Sarah still feels sleepy and sun-warmed, malleable, and lets Annie press a glass of water into her hands. She drinks, watching unabashedly as Annie does the same, long throat working as she takes the whole glass down in one go. Sarah takes a fluffy towel from Annie and goes into the bathroom to undress and rinse off under the gentle spray of the shower, and then wraps herself up and goes out into the hall to find Annie already there. 

Her hair is twisted in a damp coil over one shoulder, water glistening on her bare shoulders. Maybe Sarah did get a bit of a sunburn in the hammock, she feels slow and dazed, not stopping herself from tracing the line of Annie’s collarbones with her eyes. Annie reaches out for Sarah’s hand and drags her into the intense, dry heat of the sauna. 

Sarah’s mind gets even more sluggish as she drops onto one of the benches, Annie doing the same at her side. Annie leans back on the bench behind, propping her elbows up and letting her head fall back, her hair sliding off onto the wood with a plop. 

“This is amazing,” she says, and Sarah may be imagining it but her voice is even warmer than the air, sliding over Sarah’s skin with a sizzle. Annie’s legs splay a bit wider, the bright white of her towel sliding up the pale skin of her thigh. Sarah tries to drag her eyes away but can’t quite do it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the sun. Maybe it’s just Annie. Prolonged exposure to this relaxed, playful, unhurried Annie is enough to make anyone feel woozy, Sarah is sure of it. When Annie’s legs part enough for her knee to bump Sarah’s, the contact knocks a little of the fog out of Sarah’s head and she jerks her gaze away, shifting slightly on the bench so not quite as much of them is touching. 

“Hey,” Annie says, and her fingers skim Sarah’s arm. Sarah’s whole body clenches. “This is supposed to be relaxing.”

“It is,” Sarah says. Her voice is rough, and she clears her throat. “I’m relaxed.”

“Hmm,” Annie hums. Her fingers press just a little into Sarah’s skin. “You can look, Sarah.”

“Huh?” Maybe Sarah’s head is still in the fog. Even worse, is she hallucinating now? She keeps her eyes on the wood wall in front of her. 

“Sarah,” Annie says, and now she has her whole hand around Sarah’s arm. “Look at me.”

Sarah turns her head, and Annie is looking straight at her. There’s moisture, from the shower or sweat, Sarah doesn’t know, beading on her upper lip and at her temples, and the curls around her face are starting to frizz. She’s beautiful, the gentle curve of her smile makes Sarah’s heart hurt. 

“I want you to look at me,” Annie says, and that’s not Sarah’s imagination. It’s Annie’s mobile, expressive mouth shaping those impossible words. Annie slides down a little lower on the bench, towel sliding even higher up her thighs. She traces the fingers of her other hand across the top of the towel, playing over the fold where it’s tucked together. “Sarah,” she murmurs, and Sarah can’t take it anymore. 

She leans over and kisses her. 

It is sweat on Annie’s upper lip, the salt tang of it blooming at the back of Sarah’s tongue as she slides her mouth against Annie’s. It makes Sarah shiver in the dense, close heat of the sauna, makes her want more. She drives her hands into the damp tangle of Annie’s hair, licks into her mouth when Annie opens it on a gasp, and wishes they were clothed differently, or not clothed at all, because she can’t twist enough to get any closer. 

“Jesus,” Annie pants when Sarah finally pulls back to breathe. Her pupils are dilated under drooping lids, her pulse beating wildly against Sarah’s wrists. 

Sarah laughs, a giddy burst of sound, and then ducks down to kiss Annie again, moving slower this time, shifting by millimeters over the wide curl of her mouth, nipping and licking as she goes. Annie’s hand travels over the terry-covered dip of Sarah’s waist, down over her hip to where it’s hiked up her thigh, until her fingers are touching skin. Sarah shivers again, pressing closer. 

“We shouldn’t stay in here too long,” Annie murmurs as Sarah slides her mouth over the skin of Annie’s cheek, the lines left behind by her smirk, the soft curve of her jaw. Sarah knows they shouldn’t, and she very much wants to be somewhere she has more range of movement, more freedom to explore, but she also doesn’t want to move from this, her new favorite spot under Annie’s chin, where her throat bobs as she swallows. Sarah bites her there, gently, tasting more fresh sweat. “Okay, maybe just one more minute.”

It’s at least three more minutes before Sarah relinquishes her spot. Annie’s hand is tucked up under the hem of Sarah’s towel, fingertips sweeping in little arcs right under the crease of Sarah’s ass. Sarah literally aches to have them move higher, in further, can feel her heartbeat pounding between her legs in anticipation. 

They manage to make it into separate showers, and Sarah scrubs down in record time, wringing out her hair and wrapping herself in the robe on the back of the door. Annie is still in her own shower, and Sarah debates waiting for her in the hallway before deciding to head straight for the bed. 

It’s where they’re going to end up anyway. 

Sarah has to take a moment, knee up on the mattress, robe slipping down her shoulder, and squeeze her eyes closed. She kissed Annie! Annie wanted Sarah to kiss her, Annie kissed her back! Annie is going to come out of the shower at any moment and get into bed with Sarah and they’re going to …

She has to stop herself, because the butterflies are back, and she doesn’t want to overthink what’s about to happen. She just wants to let it happen. 

Even if she had let herself think about it, she would not have imagined Annie striding out into the room completely naked. It startles a laugh out of Sarah, still lying in bed with her robe neatly tied, and Annie narrows her eyes even as she grins. She stops at the side of the bed and props her hands on her hips. 

“That’s not what a girl wants to hear when she’s naked,” Annie says, trying to look upset and failing miserably. Sarah rolls onto her side, propping up on her elbow and putting her chin in her hand. She lets herself look, a slow, thorough perusal from Annie’s narrowed eyes to her knees, and back up. She’s perfect, all pale skin and gentle curves. Sarah’s palms itch, her mouth waters. “Oh,” Annie says, and her hands fall from her hips. “Well, that’s better.”

She crawls into bed and meets Sarah in the middle, bending over her to kiss her down into the pillows. Annie’s hair is a damp curtain around Sarah’s face, enveloping her in humid warmth and the spicy smell of lavender. Annie’s mouth is warm and soft and sharp and biting in turns, pressing into Sarah’s before working down her neck to the collar of the robe. 

While Annie nips across Sarah’s shoulder, shoving the robe out of the way with her chin, Sarah goes to work on the belt. She hadn’t tied it in a complicated knot, but her fingers are clumsy with nerves and desire, and it takes her three tries to get it undone. Then Annie’s hands join in, showing it aside until Sarah’s torso is bare. 

Then Annie lowers herself until they’re pressed together, all of Annie’s naked skin against Sarah’s. It makes them both gasp, and then giggle breathlessly. 

“You feel good,” Annie says, shimmying her shoulders so their breasts brush together. Sarah’s arms are still in the sleeves of her robe, so she can’t get them all the way around Annie yet, but she can palm Annie’s ribs, drag her knuckles up to the soft swell of her breast. Sarah twists her wrist, flicks out her fingers to feel just how hard Annie’s nipple is. Annie sucks in a breath between her teeth. 

“You do too,” Sarah says, and then hooks her hands over Annie’s shoulder as Annie leans down to kiss her again. 

Eventually Sarah manages to get clear of her robe, and then she gets them situated the way she wants. Annie has one thigh between Sarah’s, rocking up in a shaky rhythm as she kisses across Sarah’s chest, licks over one of Sarah’s nipples and then bites it, gently at first but harder when Sarah gets a hand in her hair in encouragement. Sarah‘s other hand roams over the smooth, warm skin of Annie’s back, feeling her muscles flex as Annie moves over her, against her. 

Annie ducks out of Sarah’s grip on her hair to skim her mouth lower, eyes skipping upwards every now and then to catch on Sarah’s. Sarah watches Annie lick around her navel, tug at Sarah’s short pubes with her lips, then watches her tongue disappear as she lowers her head between Sarah’s legs. 

Sarah loses track of her then, head tossed back into the pillows, shaking back and forth as she tries not to buck too hard into Annie’s face. Annie’s tongue is precise, wicked, and somehow Annie knows exactly where Sarah needs it at any given second. And just when Sarah is close, but clenching and achingly in need of something to push her over the edge, Annie slides one finger into Sarah and crooks it, drawing back and forth at the same pace as she moves her tongue. 

It’s perfect. It’s earth-shattering. It makes Sarah’s spine lock, her thighs tense, it wipes all conscious thought from her head as she grabs for Annie’s hair and shudders hard. She can hear the high keening sound she’s making and she can’t even care enough to be embarrassed or try to moderate her volume, she’s being obliterated by an orgasm that doesn’t want to end. 

Finally it does, Annie pulling back to let Sarah shiver through the end of it. When Sarah’s eyes are able to focus she looks down and sees Annie’s wild, smug grin, chin shiny and lips red and wet. 

“That was amazing,” Annie says. Sarah unclenches her fingers from Annie’s hair and pets it down. 

“Isn’t that my line?” Sarah asks, voice scraping out of her throat. Annie laughs, and then crawls up over Sarah for a kiss. She tastes like sweat and Sarah, and Sarah licks into her mouth for more of the taste. 

Sarah bends her knee up so Annie has something to work her hips against, and then reaches down to add her fingers. Annie gasps against Sarah’s mouth, grinding down harder onto Sarah’s hand, her thigh. “God, Sarah,” she says, and then her body jerks, and she cries out. “God,” she says again, almost a whimper into Sarah’s ear, as she bucks her hips and Sarah’s fingers slide lower, down to where she’s wettest. 

“Oh,” Sarah says, dropping clumsy kisses against Annie’s face as she shakes against Sarah. “I want to taste that.”

“Fuck,” Annie gasps. “Let a woman finish her first orgasm.”

Sarah’s laugh is loud, delighted, reverberating off the cinder block walls.

🐑

They don’t bother getting dressed after that, scooping their hair up into messy buns and padding around the place in all their naked, post-coital glory. Sarah feels lit up from the inside, her giddiness spiking every time they drift into each other’s spaces, Annie brushing a kiss over her shoulder or smacking her ass with a terrible wink. They don aprons to cook dinner and laugh at each other for how ridiculous they look, and then eat cross-legged on the couch, unable to take their eyes off each other.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss each and every freckle on your body?” Annie asks, after she’s put her plate down and draped herself over Sarah. 

“No,” Sarah says, her heart feeling too big for her chest. Annie drags her fingers over Sarah’s skin, the dusting of freckles on her chest, lower. 

“Since day one, Sarah.” Annie’s voice is low and throaty, close to her ear, sending heat spiking down to her core. Annie’s fingers follow, and Sarah leans her head back on the couch and arches up into them.

🐑

The next morning Annie gets up first, and Sarah rolls out of bed soon after, going into the bathroom to find her prodding her neck and grimacing at her reflection. Sarah catches sight of the red-purple skin under Annie’s fingers and bursts out laughing.

“Lucky is gonna kill me,” Annie says, but she turns to gather Sarah into her arms. 

“Ana’s gonna tell me ‘I told you so,’ and then probably tease me to death,” Sarah says. Annie grins, and then presses her grin to Sarah’s mouth. “Worth it,” Sarah says, and then kisses her back.


End file.
